Anywhere (19 page)

I slipped my sandals off, stood up, and went to join him in the water.

The future could wait. For now, I had Asher.

We spent the rest of the week not doing much more than walking on the beach in Arcachon…that is, when we left our room. I couldn’t get enough of Asher now that I’d had him, and would have spent the entire week in bed if he’d let me. But, he reasoned, we were in France. We should at least get out a little each day to soak up the experience.

At that moment, though, the only experience I wanted to soak up was Asher.

“You looked so lost in Gare de Lyon that day,” Asher said, his hand smoothing the back of my hair, then his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. We lay tangled together, legs and arms wrapped up in each other.

“I was trying to talk myself into going.” God, it felt like a lifetime ago, standing in that train station trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. “It wasn’t going well. Then my mother called and demanded I come home. Obviously, I had to stay.”

He laughed softly. “I think I love your mom.”

“That’s only because you haven’t met her yet.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Why did I say
yet
? Like I thought he’d meet her someday. Like we were actually going to stay together.

But he didn’t seem to notice the slip…or maybe he just didn’t mind it. I didn’t know. Either way, he didn’t say anything about it and I was glad for that.

His hands ran up and down my spine, giving me shivers. I snuggled closer and something occurred to me.

“Were you really going to Rome that day?” I said.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Nope. I was headed for Spain. But as soon as you looked at me…I don’t know… I just knew I was going to go anywhere you were. And Josh totally would have approved. He was always following the girl.”

I smiled into his chest and pressed a kiss to his warm, soft skin. I ran my hand lightly over his stomach and let my fingers trail south. He moaned and tightened his arms around me. I climbed on top of him, sliding my body slowly up his until I could reach his mouth. Then I leaned down to kiss him, my feelings overwhelming me, wanting to show him how much he meant to me.

He ran his hands down my sides, his fingers lightly skimming my skin and trailing down my thighs to my knees as I straddled him. He slid his hands up the insides of my thighs, making me gasp when they met in the middle.

“Oh, Asher,” I breathed, “I need…”

He smiled as he circled my ache with his thumb, and I lost the ability to speak.

“All I need is the beautiful Skye above me,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving my face as I writhed in his hands. Then he lifted his head and took my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as it tightened, sending me over the edge—up, up, up until I burst in ecstasy.

If I was the sky, he was the sun.

I lowered myself onto him, taking him in. And as he reached heights of his own, he cried out like he was worshiping my name.

twenty-three

“C
ome on, it’s our last night here,” Asher said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And the beach is deserted. Who’s going to see?”

I looked up and down the beach. He was right—there was no one out here but us. And the stars. The sky was clear, moonlight sparkled over the expanse of water in front of us. Behind us, the town glowed with ornate streetlights and restaurants in full swing. The tendency of the French to eat late had given us this opportunity.

Skinny-dipping in the ocean.

“What if someone comes out here?” I said. “Sure, we’re alone now, but ANYONE could walk down the beach at ANY TIME.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “And what if they do? There are people out here sunbathing half-naked all day long. And some of the beaches around here are clothing COMPLETELY optional.” He let go and took my hands in both of his. “Skye, no one’s going to care or even notice. Come on. It’s FUN.”

It did sound fun—in an it’s-against-the-rules sort of way. Even though, clearly in this culture it wasn’t. But still, it felt that way to me, and not that she’d ever said as much, but my mother would NOT approve.

Okay, that sealed it. I was totally doing this.

“You’re adorkable,” Asher said.

“Shut up.” I laughed and pushed him away. Then ran down the beach a little farther from the town’s lights. It was no big deal, right? I was going to swim naked in the ocean as people had been doing for thousands of years.

Before I lost my nerve, I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it on the sand. Asher whooped and started undressing as my shorts, underwear, and bra quickly followed.

It was stupid, I know, but I felt shy standing out there on the sand, naked with him. I mean, we’d practically spent the entire week naked together. He’d explored every inch of my body (and done it very, VERY well, I might add). But it felt different, being out in the open, the ocean breeze caressing my bare skin all over. My senses were hyperaware—my skin singing with sensations I’d never felt before—and I could feel EVERYTHING. The pulse of the waves, the air swirling between us, the heat of Asher’s body even though he stood a couple of feet away, the warmth of his gaze traveling all over my body as I stood there completely bare in the moonlight, my heart beating just for him.

He reached a hand out to me and I laced my fingers with his.

“Ready?” he said, and I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice at that moment. Because I was feeling things for Asher that I shouldn’t have been. I pushed them away as we ran into the water.

The feel of the water against my skin—with no bathing suit to get in the way—was intoxicating. Water touching me everywhere as I dove under, plus knowing Asher was naked just a few feet from me…oh my god. In seconds I was throbbing.

NOW I understood why people went skinny-dipping.

A couple of strokes and I had claimed his lips in mine, my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. He was just as ready as me, his hardness slipping inside as I opened myself to welcome him in. His hands slid around my back, down my hips, and cupped my thighs.

“Oh my god, Skye,” he whispered in my ear, his breathing ragged. “You feel SO good.”

So did he. Every thrust brought me closer and closer until I was crying out for him, clinging to him, the taste of him mingled with salt water.

When I let go of him, he said, “I’m kinda glad now that you’ve never gone skinny-dipping before.” I splashed the big, stupid grin on his face, and started to swim away. But he lunged for me and grabbed me, kissing me breathless. “I like that I was your first,” he whispered when he pulled away. “And that you were mine.”

I knew exactly what he meant—we hadn’t used a condom. Obviously. For the first time in my life, I’d been so overwhelmed with someone that I hadn’t even thought about it. I did a quick calculation in my mind—I’d gotten my period just before I’d left for Europe, so I had about a week left of my cycle, which meant I was in the safe zone. THANK GOD. I didn’t need THAT kind of complication right now.

I smiled at him, relaxing. I’d been his first and he’d been mine. It scared me how much I liked that. How much it meant to me.

I really had to stop thinking about it.

We swam a little longer, then got dressed and went back to our room. We took a shower to wash off the sticky salt water (and may have taken advantage—again—of being naked and wet together…I’m just saying), then I turned on my phone to check messages. My mom had texted, demanding that I call her.

It’s not like I could ignore her text especially because I’d be texting her tomorrow morning anyway and she’d know I’d see it then. And I’d still have to call her. So I could put off the inevitable or get it over with now.

No time like the present.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Skylar,” she said.

No
hello
. No
how are you
. I don’t know why I ever expected anything different or why it hurt every time. I should have been used to it by now.

“Hi, Mom. You wanted me to call?”

“Yes, well, since we’ll be seeing you in about a week at Paige’s wedding. Nice of you to let me know your travel plans.”

I was an ocean away.

“You knew, Mother, as soon as you got the invite. So why did I need to tell you something you already knew?”

“It’s called Common Courtesy, Skylar. Most people would recognize that.”

I exhaled slowly. I was an ocean away.

“I’m coming home for Paige’s wedding.”

“Thank you. Now was that so hard to do?”

She had no idea.

“I have to say I’m not at all surprised that she got herself in trouble like this.”

“Paige didn’t get herself into trouble. She got pregnant with a LOT of help from Danny. That’s not
trouble
and it’s not her fault.”

“All I’m saying is—”

“I
know
what you’re saying. And she’s my best friend, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop saying it.” Had I actually said that out loud to her? Holy shit. And I wasn’t even panicking about it.

She was silent for a moment on the other end. “I don’t know why you talk to me like that, Skylar. After all that I went through with you.”

I didn’t say anything. My inclination was to apologize, to smooth things over, but I wasn’t going to do it this time. I had to say it—she needed to hear it. And I wasn’t going to take it back.

My mother had always been the master at long, uncomfortable silences. Usually accompanied by the Look. The combination of which ALWAYS had me rushing to repair whatever damage—real or imagined—I’d done.

She was doing it right now.

But then, so was I. And I’d had a lifetime to learn how.

Finally, there was a heavy sigh, and she said, “You were never like this when you were with Blaine. At least you’ll have a chance to make up with him at the wedding.”

“
What?
Why would I…?” Oh, shit. Danny was Blaine’s best friend and was supposed to have been best man at our wedding, which meant…

Fuck. Me.

“I gotta go, Mom.”

“Skylar, you can’t avoid this forever, you know. You and Blaine are going to have to work things out.”

“Jesus, Mom. There’s nothing to work out, nothing to make up. I don’t want to marry Blaine—I don’t love him. I would think you’d be happy I wasn’t marrying someone I don’t love.”

“Love isn’t everything, Skye.” Her voice had gotten quiet, oddly sincere. It wasn’t something I was used to hearing from her.

I paused. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“When you love them,” she said softly, “they can hurt you. It works better when you don’t. I just…” She paused, and I wasn’t sure she was going to say more because she was quiet for so long. But then she said, “I just don’t want you to go through what I went through.”

Old pictures of my parents when they were first married flashed in my mind. The unbridled happiness on both of their faces. And then the despair my mother had tried so hard to hide, but never could, when my dad had left. I’d never really thought about it before. How it had affected her.

As gently as I could, I said, “I really gotta go, Mom. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

Wow. I sat there on the bed staring at my phone for a moment. I’d always thought of my mother as strong, demanding, and not particularly warm. She wasn’t a loving person, never had been, at least not in my memory. But in those pictures, I realized, she’d looked different. More open, loving.

She’d remarried not long after the divorce—about six months later—and at the time it hadn’t seemed strange. I was too young to notice. But now everything was falling into place. It’s not like she’d been having an affair. No. She’d met Roy about a month before they’d gotten married. He was a decent enough man, maybe a little too nice. He let my mother take care of him and boss him around. But they worked well together. There wasn’t any great passion between them, but there was comfort. At least it looked that way.

I guess I hadn’t really ever thought about whether she loved him. Roy clearly adored my mother, had always treated her as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune to have her. But, now that I thought about it, I’d never gotten the same feeling from her. She cared for Roy, yes. But was she in love with him?